Don't Cry
by Skyler Sage
Summary: Valentine's Day has always been a day of Misery for Alicia Spinnet. This one starts off just the same, but with a surprising ending.


It happened every year.

By now, she would have thought she'd be used to it. That it wouldn't bother her as much.

Yet every year it felt like the wound being opened afresh. A self-inflicted wound. 

She had no one to blame but herself.

The owls rained a downpour of reds and pinks, flowers and ribbons. Singing cards either warbled sweetly or wailed annoyingly while students, (and a few teachers,) shuffled through their gifts in order to reach their breakfast. Or shuffled through their breakfast in order to reach their gifts, whichever the case may be.

She could see several cheeks turning crimson, as boys fixed their eyes on a certain witch opening her parcels and as the girls discovered who was thinking of them on St. Valentine's. It was a nice holiday really... and she even found herself smiling as Katie exclaimed over getting three anonymous cards, and as poor Harry buried his face in his hands at the mountain of cards that his two best friends had to peer over in order to look at him across the table.

Laughter was even contagious as Angelina opened what looked like a box of chocolates only to have a pink cloud of dust and glitter burst in her face, and then a trio of chocolate frogs danced for her before holding up a sign bearing the words "Will you by my Valentine? Love, Fred." Laughter turned to giggles when she saw the look on Fred's face: he seemed to be holding his breath, pensive and bracing, like he wasn't sure if it was a storm that would break over him or a hug that would pounce him. She couldn't blame him as Angelina hadn't been so forgiving after he, his twin George, and Harry had been expelled off the team. It was with a sigh of relief that she joined the others clapping as a giddy Angelina wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek... making his face go tomato red.

No, it wasn't a bad holiday at all. It just became hard to smile so easily when she looked down at her own place on the table... and saw nothing but her plate with toast and rashers.

Silently, she berated herself as she and others made their way down to Hogsmeade. She was seventeen for goodness sakes! Really, she should know better than to take offense at this silly, over-commercialized holiday. She was lonely every day of the year, but every other day it would be too easy to say she didn't have time to look for a boyfriend who would be interested in a girl who was obsessed with Quidditch, didn't like parties, and barely knew how to kiss, let alone much else. Didn't stop her from wanting one of course, but the excuses that class, practices, games, and friends came before such things were always on the tip of her tongue... 

Except on Valentine's Day.

Look left and there was a couple kissing in the window of Madam Puddifoot's; look right and there was a gaggle of girls cooing over a bouquet of flowers one of them had gotten from her boyfriend; look dead ahead and there were her own teammates, paired off and laughing together. No matter where she looked, her mental reminders for why she didn't want a boyfriend and why this holiday shouldn't bother her fell silent and died. She only forced herself to smile when Katie or Angie looked at her with concern, asking she wanted to join them. She turned them down, but not entirely because she was being the noble one (the irony) and not wanting to take their attention away from their happiness, but also for selfish reasons: she'd only be more miserable if she became a third wheel.

They all agreed to split up, and she more or less had slipped off before her friends could call a stop to it because she had no one to be with. At least while she walked through the village, she had a good reason to keep her head down: the slightly warmer weather was melting all of the snow, and there were huge puddles and areas slick with mud for her to weave her way around. Still, even if she wasn't looking at all the happy couples around her, she felt empty. Perhaps because her hands were empty. 

Ah! That was it!

Every Valentine's Day, rather than feeling sorry for herself, she went out and bought herself something. Nothing big, mind you. Just a little something to perk up her spirits. 

She went to the florist down the way and purchased three roses: one for herself, one for Katie, and one for Angelina. Seeing their faces with just a little token of friendship always made her feel happy. Then, sitting on the counter, she saw a small display of stuffed animals. Not the huge fluffy ones some of the owls had struggled with to bring down this morning, but cute little bears or dogs or other animals in shades of scarlet, rose, and white. On a whim, she added a fuzzy red bear with a velvet bow around it's neck and the softest fur she had ever felt to her purchases.

She felt better now; her bear was just so cute, her rose was lovely and it was her favorite flower. Looking forward to seeing her best friends' faces when she gave them theirs, she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings when she left the shop: A cart selling Valentine Fizzing Whizbees and other candies from Honey Dukes was crossing right in front of her, and a group of boys who were walking around it slammed into her, knocking her belongings from her arms as she fought to keep her balance. 

"Oi! Watch it, Gryffindork!"

"Not so slick on the ground as you are in the air, eh Spinnet?"

She didn't pay any attention to the Slytherin Quidditch players. Part of it was habit for ignoring their taunts on the pitch. But at the moment she was too busy watching as her bear flopped in the puddle on the road, along with her roses. She made a move to get them, but she tripped over one of the boys' long legs, and they snickered and jeered as she fell to knees, palms and robes getting coated in mud while the blokes above her laughed.

And then she could only watch as her roses where crushed beneath the wheel of the passing cart, her bear shoved deep into the puddle to drown.

~*~

Bed seemed like the safest place to be. The simple excuse of not feeling well, with the reassurances that it wasn't serious enough to go see Madam Pomfrey, and the world left you alone. If she had gone anywhere else, her requests to be left alone would have been met with worry and attention that at the moment she would have found irritating rather than being touched at her friends' concern. And she knew they wouldn't leave her alone once they noticed the redness of her eyes and the tear trails down her cheeks.

Even now, she sniffled and rubbed her eyes furiously, angry that she had been so damn emotional about it. It was an accident, that's all. She had bought herself some silly flowers and a stuffed animal she was too old for anyhow. Serves her right.

And yet... and yet she felt totally miserable now. Her attempt to cheer herself up had lasted for a grand total of five minutes, and now she just wanted this wretched holiday to be over. She buried her face against her pillow, preparing to sleep the rest of the day out.

Tap, tap, tap.

She blinked her sore eyes. Tapping? Everyone was downstairs at dinner... so what on earth could be...

Tap, tap, tippity-tap.

Shoving the bed-curtains out of the way, she peered about the room. Nobody. But then she saw movement by the window, and went to have a look. When she realized it was an owl, she opened the window quickly, letting it glide in to settle on one of the bedside tables. Another anonymous letter for Katie perhaps? Or maybe...

Such thoughts ceased when she saw the envelope addressed to herself... and then she went still as she saw what was clutched in the owl's other talons: a stuffed dog, one she recognized as a terrier, with a handkerchief held in its mouth. 

For a moment, she just stood there. Was the dog really for her? Who would have sent it? Why... She stopped thinking when the owl gave an annoyed screech while flapping its wings, impatient to be rid of its burdens. Quickly, she took the letter and the stuffed animal, and with a dignified ruffle of its feathers, the owl took off to soar back out the window. 

She held the dog for a moment before she snuggled it and smiled slightly. It wasn't as soft as the bear, but it certainly was adorable... and was a _silk _ribbon around its neck?? She slipped back through the curtains and sat cross-legged on her bed. With the terrier on her lap, she opened the letter... and then nearly fell of the bed in surprise as she read the following written in green ink:

__

Dear Ms. Alicia Spinnet, 

You must be surprised to be getting this from a bloke like myself... just as I'm surprised I'm writing this to a witch like yourself. I don't I mean that in a bad way!! Just with your friends always nearby, three of them male rival players who would love to find an excuse to pummel me into oblivion... well, let's just say it's a feat easier said than done. The reason I'm taking the risk of having two redheads and a Scottish bloke breathing down my neck on the morrow is because I owe you an apology.

You see, I was the one who knocked into you at Hogsmeade today.

I didn't mean to! I was just a bit distracted. You seemed rather down this morning at breakfast... and on the way down to Hogsmeade as well. But when I saw you coming out of the shop, you looked so happy I didn't realize I had walked right into you. Not that I've been watching you, or anything... I just noticed, is all. And... I'm sorry I ruined how happy you were. Couldn't do anything for the bear... when it finally surfaced, it was a right old mess. And if you thought my mates were horrible with you, (for which I also apologize,) they would have had a field day with me if they saw me getting flowers as well. 

I did try to follow you to apologize... but I think at the time you wished to be left alone. So I did manage to get you a little something, mostly in thanks to my cousin's help distracting the others. (You know him... Warrington... the one who, heh, nearly knocked your mate Bell off her broom last match.) It's not much... but perhaps it'll cheer you up a bit. Don't be so down, Alicia. You're prettier when you smile.

Seeking your forgiveness,

Terence Higgs

Terence...Higgs? The Terence Higgs? The one half the school referred to as Tarty Terence? She stared at the letter, then put it aside and lifted up the cute little dog, the kerchief still dangling from its muzzle. Hadn't she overheard Terence talking on their way out from Care of Magical Creatures that he'd be damned if he ever got a bird a Valentine's gift? Didn't he say that it was a bullocks of a holiday and that he wouldn't waste his time or money on such ridiculous sentiment?

And yet he'd gotten her something. It was part of an apology, but he still had gotten her something nonetheless. She brushed the fur out of the toy's eyes so she could see the shiny black beads beneath. She then noticed that something was written on the corner of the handkerchief, which she tugged and was surprised to see it come loose. Looking at it, her eyes watered even when she broke into a warm, beaming smile as she read the two words.

"Don't cry."

Happy Valentine's Day.


End file.
